Worth Melting For
by writingsofalyricalheart
Summary: Darcy was handling her 20's with as much finesse possible considering she's being a student & a part time employee at a place that seems to take advantage of her often. All seemed to be going fine until one chance encounter with a perfect stranger messes up her life. Between loans, professors, & coworkers, she can't possibly handle one more irritant, but she's about to.
1. Mild Disasters

Darcy ran to the door, arms and hands full with loose papers, textbooks, and a cup of much needed coffee, all while trying to keep the strangely heavy purse on her shoulder from sliding onto her forearm. Literally the last thing she needed was to drop something, and with how today had been going, that'd be just her luck.

"Hold the door, please!" She yelled above the textbooks, praying that by some miracle the man in front of her heard her.

This time, he did.

"After you." He flashed his gorgeous, million dollar smile as she brushed by him, trying very hard not to drop a thing.

Normally, she'd blush, look away, and then glance back at him considering she saw him frequently around campus, and they'd become friendly strangers. Sometimes he'd smile at her, other times he'd just smirk, but he'd normally just give enough of a glance to leave her wondering about him for the rest of the day.

And any other day, this casanova would have her week in the knees, but not today. No, today was about getting this goddamned paper that she'd been slaving over all week in on time. Today she'd be victorious. Today she'd prove her jackass of a professor wrong, and kick this class's ass. Today…she'd find out that the professor went home early.

_Son of a fucking bitch. You've gotta be kidding me!_

Not today. Not today of all goddamn days. Just not today.

Darcy stood in silence for a moment as she just stared at the irritatingly perfect handwriting of the professor. She'd never seen handwriting that could possess such fine elegance and high class arrogance before until she signed up for Advanced Psych. And then, she sat down in her seat on the first day and took note of the name that had been written in what almost looked like calligraphy from the 50 something year old man standing with his hands behind his back, watching every new student file into the classroom, studying them, and most likely trying to figure out which one would crack under the pressure first.

Ah yes. The professor from hell. Of course this would happen to her.

Thankfully, she'd experienced this one too many times with a similar professor within the first semester to be shaken. So, Darcy (somewhat) carefully set down her books, pulled a brown manila folder from her bag, stuffed the paper inside along with an explanation of what this was, and marked on the front of the folder the time and date.

She promptly slid the folder underneath his door until it was out of sight, picked up her books, and headed for home.

Darcy was happy to finally have finished that god-awful assignment. She'd spent the last three and a half weeks taking this intensive winter session course, and to finally be rid of such a burden was like a gift from the heavens.

She had made it out to her car when she realized she'd forgotten to pick up her coffee off the floor. After quickly throwing her bag and books into the back seat, she locked up her tan 1998 Toyota Camry and ran as fast as she could inside, desperately avoiding other students.

After a few close calls, and a few sorrys here and there, she just barely made it back to see that her coffee had been left next to the office door, looking completely untouched.

Darcy sighed in relief as she double checked to make sure nothing was wrong with it, and then proceeded to take in the white chocolate pepperminty goodness. Maybe this day was going to be victorious after all.

She turned around to head back down the hallway and to car. But then, it happened.

She'd apparently turned around too soon because before her stood a six foot two grad student with jet black hair and the greenest eyes she'd ever seen glaring at her so hard she'd thought maybe he was trying to kill her with his mind. She'd spilled her latte onto him as well as herself, and all he could do was look from his shirt to her face over and over again, his face reddening with each look, and his eyes becoming wild and filled to the brim with fury.

Darcy had no idea what was about to happen next, but she knew it couldn't be good.


	2. Unpleasant Meetings

Darcy knew at this point she was in deep shit.

"I am SO, so sorry. Really, I-" Darcy apologized as she reached to clean off his chest, making things even more awkward than they already were.

"-DON'T. It's bad enough that your clumsiness caused this mess. Who know what could happen if you were to actually touch me," He practically barked at her, eyes fixed on the splotches of hot coffee splattered across his white button up shirt, trickling down onto his dark blue straight leg jeans, and finally the droplets making their way onto the tips of his hand made, calfskin oxfords.

Darcy, slightly startled, pulled back almost instantly. He may have had the richest voice with the crispest English accent she'd ever heard, but he was still beyond pissed and she didn't want to rock the boat.

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to help."

"Well, I think you've already done quite enough." The mysterious stranger spoke as he finally met her eyes, his expression changing from furious to, for him, a more mild tone: all-knowing judgment.

Darcy wasn't necessarily shy, but the weight of his gaze was almost too much to handle. She felt practically naked despite the fact that she was as covered up as humanly possible, with her baggy, oversized, cable knit sweater that fell past the behind of her dark wash skinny jeans. She began ever so slightly shifting on her converse covered feet as she tried to push her unruly hair behind her ears, making sure to not bump her glasses or accidentally knock off her maroon beanie. The last thing she needed right now was to be even more clumsy.

But what she didn't know was that he was practically an expert at not only pinpointing nervous habits and insecurities, but using them to his advantage. In fact, it was his job. It was what he was studying for. It didn't help that he'd learned the tricks of the trade from his multi-million business mogul father, who was an expert himself at manipulating people, situations- you name it -until he got what he wanted. She was right in the palm of his hands, and she didn't even know it.

"Um, is there anything I can do?" Darcy asked, hoping this simple question would bring a peaceful ending to this stressful day, even though, she knew she'd done more damage than she realized. "I mean, I know I can't exactly fix the mess, but could I maybe buy you a latte to make up for it?"

Just then, a sparkle flickered into the mystery man's eye as a knowing smile spread across his face.

_How cute. She has no idea who she's talking to._

"Actually, yes," He answered, his mood seeming to catch a mildly flirtatious tone, all while maintaining his altogether aloof attitude, "there is something you can do."

Darcy felt a slight tinge of relief at his words. _Maybe this day won't be so bad after all._

"Anything! You name it! I'll wash your car, but, I mean, like not in a bikini, cause like, I don't know you that well. But if you have a dog, I'd walk it! Although, you really do strike me more as a cat person, or maybe a ferret person-do you like rabbits? But, anyways, you name it, I'll do it! Except sex favors, because, like I said, I don't know you, and that's just not a thing a girl gives out to some Joe-schmoe that she spills coffee on, if you know what I'm saying. Not that you'd ask for that. But I mean, I don't know, maybe you would. Maybe you're some psychopath like Christian Grey with some obtuse red room of pain and pleasure or something, but hey, I'm not here to judge. If you're into that tie-me-up tie-me-down stuff, that's your business, not mine. And man, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Yes." The man spoke with a firm tone, but nevertheless amused all the while.

"Sorry, bad habit."

"I can tell," He drawled. _Maybe with that mouth sex favors will be a request. Hm. Maybe. If she's lucky. And learns to dress with a little more class._

"So, um, anyways, what is it you want? Name your price."

"I want nothing, for I have everything I need. However," He waiting in anticipation for a moment, "what I'd greatly appreciate for the ghastly disaster you've caused is simple. The stains in my shirt is an easy fix, but my shoes are not. They are handmade, genuine leather, and a simple dry-cleaning job just won't do. So, my price is simple. You buy me another pair of shoes, and we'll call it even. Deal?"

"You want me to buy you…shoes?"

"Yes."

"Like any old shoes, or that exact pair?"

"This exact pair if you don't mind."

"Umm, look, I don't know if you're aware of this, but most normal college kids like me are broke as shit and those look really fucking expensive, and I don't even know your name."

"You said name my price. That is my price."

"Right, but, like, that's a lot of money I don't have, and how much do they even cost...?" Darcy trailed off, hoping he'd finish her sentence for her and say his name, "Okay, this is normally when people tell you their name, so..."

"Loki."

"…Loki?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"You don't believe me?"

"Dude, I don't think you're lying, but that's seriously your name?"

"Is it a problem?"

"No! Nope, no. It's all good. It's just…..unique, that's all."

"Such strong judgments from a woman named, ah, wait yes, you haven't told me your name yet."

"Darcy. Darcy Lewis." She stuck out her hand to shake his, and he reluctantly shook it back.

_Wow, sorry for being polite. Didn't know handshakes offended you._

"Darcy."

"Yes." Darcy spoke, straightening her shoulders, and pushing her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose.

"What a common name."

"Oh, right, and we're just all supposed to have names like 'Loki'? What kind of origin is that from anyways?"

"It's an Old Norse name, from Norse Mythology."

"So I'm guessing your parents hated you then?" Darcy asked jokingly.

Loki cleared his throat. "Yes, I suppose so. But, I suppose we should be getting back to business, shouldn't we? Here is my number. Do not drunk dial me or call me for any other reason than to let me know you've purchased the shoes. We are not friends, this is purely business."

"Wow, your number. Thanks for your clearly painful generosity."

"Yes, I'll try not to make a habit out of it."

"Yeah, don't strain yourself."

"Oh believe me, I won't."

"I bet. Well, anyways, I need to get going. I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, but we both know that's not entirely true. But hey, at least I didn't say it was a pleasure to run into you, you know, given the current situation and all."

"Yes, well. I expect to hear from you soon."

"Right. Bye Loki." He let out sort of a snort/grunt combination as he made his way to the door. IT was just then that Darcy remembered she didn't even know anything about the shoes he wanted her to buy. "Wait!"

Loki let out an annoyed sigh. "Yes?"

"How much are those and how the hell am I even supposed to buy them?"

"$450. And you can find them at Nordstrom's."

"Four hundred and fifty FUCKING dollars? HELL no."

"You would do well to watch your language. It's quite unladylike."

"FUCK that. That is so NOT the issue right now. I don't have that kind of money, dude!"

"That is my price. You said you'd do anything. This is anything."

"I didn't mean I'd be willing to use all my savings on a pair of fucking old-ass man shoes!"

"This is the deal we made, and that is ALL!" He snapped at her before storming off into the parking lot.

_He wants me to buy him fucking 450 dollar shoes? Oh HELL no. There's no fucking way that's happening._

To hell with what he said.

Darcy had his number now. And he can bet his snobby ass he wasn't getting his way this time.

* * *

><p>AN: Hey, so I suck at updating stuff!

But seriously, I'm so sorry guys. My boss quit in real life at my job back in December, and since then I've been the "stand in manager" and all hell has broken loose and so I have literally no time to write and am stressed to the max and so sleep deprived, so it might be a little bit before I update again.

But, thank you all so so very much for you're kind comments and kudos and support, and thank you all for sticking with the story despite the fact that I really am terrible at posting new stuff in a timely manner.

Also, I'm so glad you guys like this AU idea so far! AU's make me so nervous to write, but I love writing and reading them! :)

So, like I said, thank you so so so much for reading, reviewing, following, favoriting, existing, being you, and I hope you all stick around for the next chapter! :)

-Samiiiiiii

P.S.-Fun fact: the whole thing with the shoes in this chapter was inspired by something that literally happened to a friend of mine which involved an open can of paint, drunk guys not watching where they're stepping and not listening when they were told to watch out, new white shoes, and a full blown adult hissy fit from an ass of a guy. Long story short, my friend was super nice and paid for half, and he paid for the other half, and they're NOT friends now.


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